


The Real Deal

by Ink_Gypsy



Category: LOTR RPS (AU)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-11
Updated: 2010-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-13 15:31:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ink_Gypsy/pseuds/Ink_Gypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Senate hopeful learns that good guys don't always finish last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Real Deal

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Genrechallenged for the Waymeet Challenge Community at Live Journal and Dreamwidth. My chosen literary genre was _Political_ , my given prompt words were _new, brazen, hoodwink, train, cork_.
> 
> The Moscone Center is named in honor of George Moscone, the mayor of San Francisco from 1976 to 1978. He was murdered by Dan White on the same day White murdered Harvey Milk, the first openly-gay man to hold a political office. The Astin campaign posters were created by me.

[](http://photobucket.com) [](http://photobucket.com)

The first thing Senate candidate Sean Astin noticed as he approached his campaign headquarters was the set of posters he'd recently approved. They were prominently displayed in the two large storefront windows to catch the eye of anyone passing the building, and big enough, in Sean's opinion, to be seen from across the street. The first one showed him wearing glasses, seated at his desk, brow furrowed in concentration as he dealt with paperwork. The second showed him on the street wearing an overcoat, his hand raised in greeting and a big smile on his face.

As his Campaign Manager Gwen had hoped, the posters were already drawing attention. From where he stood, a foot away from the building, Sean could see, in profile, a young man in his early twenties, standing on the sidewalk in between the two windows, looking back and forth from one poster to the other, as if he were trying to decide which of the two he liked better.

[   
](http://photobucket.com)

Giving in to a sudden impulse, Sean stepped up beside him, and in an overly-cheerful voice asked, "So, _Serious Lawmaker_ or _Man of the People_? Which do you see as the real me?"

The young man spun around to face him, and one look at Sean had his look of surprise changing to one of star-struck awe. "Y-you're him!" he stammered.

Even though he’d obviously been recognized, Sean extended his hand, and with the same smile he wore in the photo, said, "I’m Sean Astin. I hope I can count on your vote in the upcoming senatorial election."

The other nodded, and in his eagerness to shake, ending up extending the McDonald's coffee cup he was holding in his right hand. He awkwardly transferred it to his left and shook Sean's hand. "Of course. That's why I'm here."

"I'm afraid you're a little early," Sean chuckled. "The election's not until November."

Sean's attempt at humor had caused his companion's face to flush scarlet, making him appear even younger. Did men still blush in this day and age? Apparently this one did, and Sean found it surprisingly appealing.

The kid - coming up on his fortieth birthday had Sean thinking of everyone a decade or more younger than he was as a kid - was Sean's height, but slight in build and wore a suit and tie. His dark hair was worn in a severe, unflattering style and had so much gel in it that not even a strand moved in the early September breeze. The large, unfashionable black glasses with thick lenses further tarred him with the geek brush, as did the leather shoulder bag he carried that Sean would have bet housed a laptop. Sean wouldn’t have been surprised to see a pocket protector, not that he couldn’t be sure the kid wasn’t wearing one under his jacket.

What did surprise Sean was the incredible pair of blue eyes looking back at him through those thick glasses, a blue so deep Sean found it difficult to look away from them. Had he been in a romance novel, Sean would have expressed his fear of drowning in them. Forcing his attention back to the conversation, Sean offered, "Well thank you for your support. Have a great day."

Sean opened the front door, preparing to go inside, but the kid put his hand on Sean's arm and said, "You don't understand. I'm the new E.J."

"I beg your pardon?"

"No--I mean--” The kid stopped, took a deep breath then began again. “I’m E.J. Wood. I’m a PolySci major at UCLA and I'm here to work for you, Mr. Astin. I’m your new intern."

Staffing issues were handled by others, so it didn’t surprise Sean that he knew nothing of the internship, but since all the staffers, paid as well as volunteers, were bright and enthusiastic, he had no doubt that E.J. would be, too. “It’s nice to meet you, E.J.," he said. "I’m sure you’ll be a great addition to the campaign.”

“I hope so, Sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir.”

“Sorry. Mr. Astin.”

Sean gave E.J. his most engaging smile. “I'm not much on formality, E.J. Just call me Sean.”

E.J. beamed. "Thank you...Sean.”

Gwen Myles followed Sean into his big glass box of an office and shut the door. “Christine had better keep an eye on that one,” she said.

At the mention of his wife’s name, Sean looked up, following his Campaign Manager’s gaze out to the main office area where he saw E.J. being shown around by one of the other workers. “The new intern?” he questioned. “He seems like a nice kid.”

Gwen shook her head in disbelief. “You’ve got to be the most naïve politician in the world, Sean. That kid’s got a major crush on you.”

Sean smiled. “That’s very flattering, considering I’m so much older than he is.”

“You are amazing,” Gwen marveled. “I tell you I think an obviously gay volunteer has the hots for you, and your first reaction is surprise because of your age difference. You actually do practice what you preach, don’t you?”

“I try.”

“A lot of politicians talk a good game, but that’s all it is, talk. You really believe in equal rights. It’s no wonder you have the gay vote.”

“I hope I have everyone’s vote,” Sean joked, “but I do believe in what I say, and I hope the voters give me the chance to prove it. As for E.J., if you thought his little _crush_ would be a problem, you wouldn’t have taken him on.”

Gwen threw her hands up in defense. “I never set eyes on him until he walked in here with you today,” she explained. “Since it’s an election year, UCLA has instituted a new program where their Political Science students work for real campaigns in exchange for school credit. They asked if we’d accept one of their students and I said sure, especially since he’s supposed to be one of their best and brightest. The kids get some real world experience and we reap the benefits. And the price is certainly right.”

“You can’t beat free,” Sean agreed.

“But in case I’m right and the kid does have a thing for you, let me know right away and I’ll get rid of him. The last thing we need is some lovesick student's unrequited love screwing up this campaign.”

“I’m sure he’ll work out fine, Gwen.”

E.J. performed his duties with total professionalism, impressing Sean and putting Gwen’s fears of any potential problems to rest. Though his social skills were somewhat lacking, it was easy to understand why he was tops in his class. What Sean found most impressive was the way he approached every task, no matter how small, with the same seriousness and maturity. Unlike other staffers who balked when asked to run errands, E.J. had no problem with being a gofer. If the new batch of flyers was stuck at the printer, E.J. offered to go and pick them up. Or if a strategy session required the staff to work through lunch, their new intern was always the first to volunteer to make the food run.

“I know you had concerns about E.J.,” Sean told Gwen during a lunch meeting two weeks later, “but the kid’s a hard worker, he's knowledgeable about the issues, and he's made himself pretty much indispensable. If I were you, Gwen, I’d offer him a job after he graduates.”

“Sean," Gwen replied, "I’ll definitely take that under consideration."

******

Sean knew it was Gwen calling before he even answered his phone. “I’m on my way,” he said in lieu of the customary hello. “I was picking up some files at headquarters, but I’ll be at Union Station in ten minutes. Are you already there?”

“Sean,” Gwen said in a voice so weak he could barely hear it.

“You sound awful, Gwen. What’s wrong?”

“I have food poisoning.”

“My God. Are you going to be all right?”

“The doctor says so, but I can’t possibly make the trip to San Francisco with you. I’m so sorry, Sean.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“But this is the first time Connolly has agreed to debate you and I know you planned on going over strategies on the trip.”

“Gwen, it’s fine. I’m as prepared for Connolly as I’m going to be. Right now your main concern has to be your health. You need to rest and get well.”

“I’d rest a lot easier if someone was going with you, in case you need anything while you’re there.”

“I’ll be fine, Gwen.”

“Of course you will, but I was thinking...”

“About?”

“Why don’t you take E.J. with you?”

It was the last thing Sean expected. “E.J.?”

“Why not?” Gwen asked. “You said yourself he's become indispensable, and frankly, he works so hard I feel guilty we’re not paying him for his time. Going to the debate with you would be such a thrill for him, a special thank you for all his hard work."

Sean didn’t need much convincing. “Since Chris can’t make it, it _will_ be nice having company on the trip.” He found E.J. at a table stuffing envelopes. “Do you have any plans for tonight?” Sean asked.

“Yeah right,” E.J. scoffed.

“I’m debating Mitch Connolly in San Francisco tonight. How would you like to come along with me?”

“Me?” E.J. asked.

“Yes. It’s an overnight trip, but if you’d rather not go...”

“Are you kidding?” E.J. was practically glowing with excitement.

Sean smiled. “Then grab your coat. If we don’t leave now we’ll miss our train.”

******

Sean hadn't heard any media reactions to the debate yet, but in his gut he knew he'd done well. He always felt exhilarated after a face-to-face with an opponent, but as they entered his sleeper compartment on the train taking them back to Los Angeles, Sean could see that E.J. was positively euphoric. “You totally destroyed him, Sean,” he said with undisguised delight, “and when it came to the gay rights issue, the way you called him on his homophobia was fucking awesome!” E.J. grimaced. “Sorry.”

E.J. was normally subdued, so Sean enjoyed hearing the intern express himself so openly and enthusiastically. “Having the debate at the Moscone Center certainly didn’t hurt,” he said.

“The venue _was_ in your favor,” E.J. admitted, “but it was your words that won the audience over. They could see you believed in what you were saying, that you weren’t just telling them what they wanted to hear.”

“I appreciate your saying that.”

“It’s true. Most politicians make promises to get elected, but never follow through on them after they’re in office.”

For a PolySci major, E.J.’s world was surprisingly black and white. “E.J., it’s naïve to believe my being elected to the Senate guarantees I’ll be able to keep my promises. The system often circumvents good intentions.”

“Sure, but I know you’ll try because you’re different. You see people as people, not just as voters. You care about them, and you care about the issues. They’re not just a means to get you elected. You’re the real deal, Sean.”

“You’re great for my ego, E.J.”

“All part of the service,” E.J. joked, rising from his seat and slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder. “Now if you don’t need me for anything else, I’m going to see if the dining car is still open.”

At the knock on the door, Sean said, “Wait, E.J. I’ve arranged for a late dinner here in the compartment. Please stay and share it with me.”

“You don’t have to do that,” E.J. told him as the attendant wheeled in the trolley and set up the meal on the fold-down table.

“I know I don’t have to,” Sean assured him, “but I want to." He tipped the attendant and closed the compartment door behind him. "I don’t enjoy eating alone and I’m sure you don’t either.”

“It doesn’t matter what I enjoy,” E.J. said softly. “I don’t have any—m-many friends so there’s not much choice except eating alone.”

“Well tonight you have a choice, and I’d really appreciate the company.”

“That's very kind of you, Sean.” E.J. put his bag on the storage shelf above them. “Thank you.”

“Then it's settled.” On a whim, Sean had ordered a bottle of wine, and as he prepared to open the bottle, said, "I know it's premature, but I feel like celebrating." Working the corkscrew into the bottle, he extracted the cork expertly, then paused, the bottle in one hand and the corkscrew in the other. "Gwen never said what year you're in. You _are_ old enough to drink, aren't you, E.J.?" he asked. "I don't want to be accused of contributing to the delinquency of a minor."

"You’re safe,” E.J. assured him. “I'm legal."

"Good." Sean filled their glasses and raised his to E.J.'s. "What shall we drink to?"

E.J. touched his glass to Sean's. "To your winning your Senate seat."

“You’ve been a great help to me and my campaign, E.J. I think you have a great future in politics.”

“I hope you’re right. I’d like to devote my life to helping people, and I think it can be done from inside the system.”

“I wish you luck,” Sean told him.

E.J. nodded. “Same to you.”

It was just steak and potatoes, but Sean enjoyed the meal immensely, due mostly to the dinner companion sitting across from him. E.J. was more open, more animated than Sean had ever seen him, probably a result of the wine. The intern might have been old enough to drink, but judging by the change in his behavior, he wasn’t used to it. Sean wished E.J. could have loosened his lie and relaxed without the benefit of alcohol, but he couldn’t regret giving him the wine because it was such a pleasure to hear E.J. talk about his dreams of making the world a better place. It reminded Sean of himself at that age. He had been young and idealistic like E.J. once, and while he was no longer E.J.’s age, Sean felt he’d held on to most of his idealism. He enjoyed talking with E.J. so much that it was past midnight before he realized how late it was.

“I think we should call it a night,” Sean told E.J. “I could certainly use some sleep.”

“Of course,” E.J. agreed. “I shouldn’t have stayed so long.”

“Nonsense. I enjoyed having dinner with you. It’s just that we’ve both had a pretty long day.”

E.J. nodded. “We have, but let me clean off the table before I go."

"That isn't necessary, E.J. I'll have the porter take care of it." The compartment’s two reclining chairs converted into beds, and for a second Sean considered offering the second one to the intern. It would go unused otherwise, which seemed like a waste. Still he was hesitant. "I feel bad that you'll have to sleep sitting up during the trip home."

"Don't worry about it. I'm used to crashing in the student center. Besides, I'm so psyched from tonight that I doubt I'll get any sleep tonight." E.J. stepped toward the compartment door, then turned to face Sean. "I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to accompany you on this trip," he said. "It’s been such a great experience.”

Sean stepped toward E.J. and shook his hand. “It was my pleasure. You’ve worked incredibly hard for no pay. Gwen and I thought you deserved a little fun, not that sitting through a debate could be considered fun.”

“It _was_ fun,” E.J. said gleefully, “especially seeing you make Connolly look like the homophobe he is. But you don’t owe me anything, Sean. I admire you so much, and it’s been my honor to be involved in your campaign.”

E.J. impulsively grabbed Sean and hugged him. More effects of the wine, Sean decided, and seeing no harm in it, hugged him back. What he wasn’t prepared for was what happened next. Pulling back from the hug, E.J. looked deeply into Sean’s eyes, then leaned in and kissed him.

Sean was so caught by surprise that he could do nothing but stand there in stunned silence. E.J.’s reaction was more immediate. He went deathly pale and stumbled back, knocking off his glasses in his attempt to cover his face with his hands. He sank to the floor, moaning “Oh God” over and over again. E.J. looked so wretched that Sean's first thought was to console him. He reached out and put his hand on the intern’s shoulder.

“Don’t,” E.J. told him, shaking it off.

“It’s all right, E.J.,” Sean said gently.

E.J. shook his head. “No it isn’t. I’ve ruined everything.”

Sean couldn't help smiling in spite of the situation. "You didn't ruin anything," he said, bending down to retrieve the intern's glasses from the floor and handing them to him. "You just got a little over-zealous, that's all."

E.J. slipped his glasses back on. "Over-zealous?" he asked, staring down at the floor. "Is that a euphemism for making an ass of yourself?"

"So you went a little overboard expressing your feelings.”

“You don’t seem surprised that I kissed you, Sean. Guess you knew I was gay, huh?”

Sean felt awkward, unsure of how to answer. He decided on the truth. “I had my suspicions, but it’s not as if it will have any effect on your work on the campaign."

E.J. looked incredulous. "You're not going to have Gwen boot me off the team?"

“Of course not,” Sean replied. “It’s not like the kiss meant anything.”

Rather than the relief Sean expected to hear in E.J.’s voice, when the intern spoke again, he sounded dejected. “Of course not. How could it possibly mean anything? It’s not like I'd ever have a chance with someone like you.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Sean told him.

"Do I?" E.J. questioned. "Do you think I don't know what people think of me? The other volunteers don't even bother to keep their voices down when they talk about me."

"I had no idea, E.J. I'm very sorry."

"Don't be, Sean. You've been great to me from Day One, but not everyone is as decent as you. For every nice guy like you there are a hundred guys like Connolly. I don’t know why I thought working on your campaign would make a difference in how people see me. I was crazy to think I’d ever fit in.”

“It might not seem like it now,” Sean tried, “but once you graduate, you’ll realize that college is just a microcosm of this big world.”

“And once I’m out in your big world, I’ll be treated just like _the popular kids?_ It doesn’t work that way, at least not for guys like me.”

Sean sighed. “It should.”

“But we both know it doesn’t. Equal rights won’t help me get what I want more than anything, a man who’ll love me and want to share a life with me.”

“That’s not so much to ask,” Sean said.

“Not for you. You’re handsome, charming, charismatic. If you think gay men are less shallow than straight men, trust me, they’re not. When it comes to men, a geek like me might as well be invisible.” E.J. laughed bitterly. “Who am I kidding? A geek like me is invisible to the whole world.”

“You don’t know it’s always going to be that way,” Sean tried.

“You’re a persuasive speaker, Sean,” E.J. said, his mouth tight, “but even you can’t make me believe that. You said I have a great career ahead of me, but I want more than that. You have someone you love and who loves you, someone you’ve made a life with. Don’t I deserve that, too?”

“Of course you do.”

“I’m smart, Sean. It’s the one thing I’ve got going for me, which is how I know that no matter how deserving I am, those things aren’t in my future.” E.J. shifted his gaze to a spot just above Sean’s left shoulder and kept it there. His eyes had a faraway look, as if they were was actually seeing that future and confirming the sadness he believed awaited him there. Tears shimmering in his blue eyes, he said, “Sometimes I think I should just end it all now and save myself the pain.”

Sean felt as if he had left the present, too, only unlike E.J.’s journey into the future, he had gone back in time. He wasn’t in the train compartment anymore. He was in his dorm room in his junior year at college, and he was sitting on the floor beside his roommate. Jonathon was slight, wore thick glasses, and was terrified of anyone finding out that he was gay. Sean knew, but kept his secret, and one night when Jonathon’s despair had him contemplating suicide, Sean’s compassionate heart had saved his life. Looking at E.J. now, Sean could feel his pain as deeply as he had felt Jonathon’s years ago, and for the second time in his life, Sean Astin used his body to comfort another man. Taking hold of E.J.’s arms, Sean raised him to his feet. He wiped the tears from the intern’s cheeks, then taking E.J.’s face in his hands, gave him a long, impassioned kiss.

E.J.’s shock quickly gave way to need and he deepened the kiss, his hands moving hungrily over Sean’s body. He fought letting go of the older man until he realized that Sean had broken their contact only so he could convert one of the reclining seats into a sleeping berth, something he’d obviously done before without the help of the attendant who would normally perform that task for passengers. When Sean sat down on the bed, E.J. just stared at him, questioning. Finally he asked, “Are you sure?” Sean’s only reply was to open his arms.

******

The beeping of Sean’s watch alarm woke him at 6 am. He reached up to turn it it off, but didn’t move from where he lay, his naked body spooned behind E.J.’s. Moments later E.J. stirred, and turning over to face him, said, “You were so gentle, Sean, so tender. I never thought it could be like that.”

Sean didn’t regret making love to E.J., but he was worried that E.J. might misinterpret what had happened between them. “E.J.,” he said softly, "about last night—" When E.J. smiled and kissed him, Sean was afraid he’d been right, and hated the idea that he’d now have to destroy any fantasy the kid might have about them being together. “E.J.,” he began again, but E.J. put a finger against his lips.

“You don’t have to worry, Sean. I’m not expecting anything. I know last night was a one-time thing, but that doesn’t make it any less special.” He studied Sean’s face for a moment then said, “You’re not even going to ask me, are you?”

“Ask you what?”

“Not to tell anyone about what we did last night. It could mean the end of your political career if the public found out. You knew that, and yet you did what you did because you thought it was the only way to keep me from hurting myself.”

Sean had thought about how the scandal would affect his campaign, of course he had, but E.J. had been in such pain last night that Sean couldn’t turn his back on him, any more then he’d been able to turn his back on Jonathan so long ago. If he had… Just thinking about it had Sean shuddering.

“I can’t stop you from telling the press or my opponent,” Sean finally told him. “If I try to bribe you to keep quiet then I’m no different than Connolly, and I’d rather drop out of the race than use his tactics. The only reason I’d regret last night would be if it didn’t make you realize how much you have to live for, and what a waste it would be for you not to be here to see what that life has in store for you.” Sean waited for E.J. to say something, but the young intern’s response totally astounded him.

“I must be getting soft,” E.J. muttered, “but fuck, I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” Sean wanted to know. “E.J., what are you talking about?”

E.J. got out of bed and began getting dressed. “You were actually concerned about me,” he marveled, “but not because you were afraid I’d ruin your run for the Senate. You were worried that just because you fucked me I’d think I was in love with you and you’d have to hurt me by telling me there could never be anything real between us. Well the joke’s on you, Sean because none of this has been real.”

Sean felt as if he’d walked into a theater in the middle of a movie and didn’t understand the plot or recognize the characters he was watching on screen. He certainly didn’t recognize the E.J. who was speaking to him now. There was no trace of the shy young man he’d made love to last night. This E.J. was bold and self-assured. It was as if he’d suddenly turned into a totally different person than the one Sean had known for the last month.

“Not real?” Sean asked. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you’ve been played, Mr. Astin.”

Sean still couldn’t make sense of it. “Played?” he repeated numbly. “I don’t understand.”

E.J. shook his head, exasperated. “Come on, you’re a smart guy. Don’t you get it?” When Sean didn’t answer, E.J. said, “I guess I’m going to have to spell it out for you then. You’ve been duped, pal, misled, taken for a ride. Call it whatever you like, but the bottom line is, you’ve been had.”

The fog began to clear from Sean’s brain. “You’re not really working on my campaign.”

E.J. smiled. “Now you’re getting it. I was hired to get you into bed so you’d lose the election.”

“But that’s not possible. Gwen said you were at UCLA, that you were part of a student work program.”

“It was a brilliant cover story. She knew you’d never question it.”

The realization hit Sean like the proverbial ton of bricks. “You’re saying that Gwen hired you to discredit me? I don’t believe it.”

E.J. sighed. “Didn’t you think it was awfully convenient that she got food poisoning right before you were ready to leave for the debate?”

“How did you...”

“And that she’d suggest I go with you instead, a lowly intern?”

“You’ve worked so hard. We both thought you deserved...”

“You didn’t have any condoms with you. Didn’t you think it was strange that a guy who couldn’t get a date would have protection with him?”

Sean flashed back to Gwen’s words on E.J.’s first day. _That kid’s got a major crush on you._ “She was baiting me,” he realized.

E.J. nodded. “She seemed certain you’d take the bait, but I wasn’t so sure. I honestly didn’t think you’d be all that easy to hoodwink, until I saw how you looked at me when I poured my heart out to you. That’s when I knew I had you.”

Sean looked visibly shaken, but then logic returned. “Even if what you say is true, what good would it do her? There would be no proof, just my word against yours.”

“You really are a babe in the woods, aren’t you?” E.J. said with what almost sounded like affection. Taking his messenger bag down from the shelf where he’d placed it last night, he opened it and took out a small device. “Digital video camera,” he explained. “Top of the line. It’s been running since you asked me to stay for dinner. Perfect angle for capturing all activity on the bed.”

Sean scrubbed his hands over his face. “I never thought Connolly would sink this low. But you got your evidence. You could have gotten away clean and I would never have known what happened until the video showed up online. That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

“I wasn’t given all the details. I was just supposed to hand over the video, but it would be the smart way to go. Once a video like that goes viral, it spreads like wildfire.”

“But I still don’t understand. Why didn’t you just take your video and leave?”

E.J. blew out a breath. “I’ll probably hate myself tomorrow when I remember the sizeable bonus I’m throwing away, but I get paid either way, and when I saw how you treated me, how much you cared about me, I just couldn't go through with it.”

“You have sex with men for money?” Sean asked as if he’d suddenly understood why E.J. was there. “You’re a hooker?”

E.J. didn’t take offense. “The agency calls us _escorts_ , but yeah, I do make a living letting guys fuck me. This isn’t the first time I’ve been hired to get the goods on a politician, Sean, but it’s the first long-term gig I’ve ever taken. When I took the job I figured you were no different than any other guy running for office, just another hypocrite. I was actually going to enjoy getting paid to bring you down, but then I got to know you and found out I was wrong. Not everything I told you last night was a lie. You don’t just see people as voters, and you really do care about how the issues affect their lives. You _are_ the real deal, Sean, which is why you’re the man that should be representing them.”

Despite the situation he found himself in, Sean felt pride in hearing himself described that way. “What will you tell Gwen when she asks what happened?”

E.J. shrugged. “That she misjudged you, and once I delete the footage, nobody will know any different.”

“But she didn’t misjudge me. I had sex with you. I cheated on my wife.”

“What happened between us had nothing to do with sex. I've been with lots of closet cases and that's not who you are. What you did last night was reach out to someone who needed help, and you gave him what he needed.” E.J. eyed him. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done it, is it? You’ve helped someone else that same way before.”

“Once,” Sean confessed, “in college. He was very much like you, or at least the person I thought you were. Is E.J. even your real name?”

“In a way. It’s actually Elijah Jordan. I find if you keep it simple you’re less likely to get caught in a lie.”

“But you knew so much about politics. I truly believed you were a Political Science major.”

“I don’t hawk my wares on a street corner, Sean. All our clients are screened by the agency, and come from diverse backgrounds, have varying degrees of intelligence and work in different professions. They know what they want and pay a large fee to make sure they get it. All of them want to fuck, but some also want to go out to dinner first so they can be seen with a handsome young companion. And some of them actually want to be able to have a real dialogue with that companion. I can provide intellectual conversation on any subject so I don’t embarrass them while we’re out in public.”

“And when you’re in private?” Sean asked, unable to curb his curiosity.

“Once we’re in the bedroom they may want something else, and I give them whatever they ask for. I can become anyone they want me to be.” He gave Sean a conspiratorial wink. “Even a PolySci geek from UCLA.”

Sean said, “I feel pretty stupid.”

“You shouldn’t,” E.J. told him. “It just proves you’re a kind man, one who cares enough to put another person’s needs ahead of your own.” He picked up his coat and his messenger bag. “It’s early yet. I’m going to sneak back to the traveling car so people will believe I spent the night there.”

“Maybe I’m the one who's too naïve for politics,” Sean considered. “Maybe it’s best that I drop out of the race on my own.”

“Don't you dare!" Elijah threatened. "I told you, we need good guys like you in Washington. But I’d suggest getting yourself a new campaign manager, one you can trust. There must be another honest politico out there. You can’t be the only one.”

Sean gave a tired laugh. “I hope not. E.J.—ah, I mean Elijah, I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Just get that gay rights bill passed.” Elijah put his hand on the compartment door, then turned back to ask, “I don’t suppose you’d consider making prostitution legal?” When Sean only shook his head he said, “Hey, it was worth a shot.” He took a piece of paper out of his pocket, wrote something on it and handed it to Sean. “Here’s my private number.” At Sean’s raised eyebrows he added, “Just in case you ever want to talk.”

Sean smiled. “I don’t think I can afford your rates.”

“For you, Sean,” Elijah responded with a grin, “it will always be on the house. I'll see you on the platform once we pull into the station."

******

Three months later Senator Sean Astin sat alone at a table at La Bohème, surveying the room while he enjoyed a glass of wine. He’d been to the restaurant on Santa Monica Boulevard before, but now he was seeing it through new eyes. The crystal chandeliers looming majestically over the dining area looked brighter than he remembered, the red furnishings more regal, but what interested him more than the décor was the clientele.

Half the tables were occupied by men, and the majority of the pairs consisted of an older man and a much younger one. Why had he never noticed that before? Last year he would never have questioned that those relationships were genuine, but now Sean found himself wondering how many of those older men were paying to spend time with their younger companions. He felt like a voyeur, but couldn’t help watching the couples interact. Some of the younger men were reserved, sitting across from their dinner partners as if they were at a business meeting while others were openly affectionate. Sean watched one exceptionally brazen young man slide his shoeless foot into his companion’s crotch and manipulate him under the table.

“Would you like some company?”

Sean wasn’t surprised to be approached by another man here. It was West Hollywood after all. He accepted the invitation as a compliment, and looking up at the stranger, said, “That’s very kind of you, but I’m waiting for someone.”

“Why don't I sit with you until he arrives? By the time he gets here, you might decide you prefer my company to his.”

Sean normally admired persistence, but not in this case “I don’t mean to be rude,” he said pleasantly, “but I’m really not interested, so if you’d just--“

Rather than being put off by the rejection, the stranger chuckled. “Sean, it’s me.”

Sean blinked once, and then his eyes went wide. “My God...Elijah?”

The young man he’d known as E.J. had undergone a complete metamorphosis. His hair had grown out and he now wore it in a sexy, tousled style. Several days’ growth of beard added at least five years to his age so he no longer looked young enough to be a college student. He was wearing an open-necked black shirt and jeans so tight Sean could see his penis clearly outlined beneath the denim, made all the easier by the obvious fact that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. The only physical trait that Elijah shared with his alter ego was E.J.’s blue eyes, which were an even more intense blue now that they weren’t hidden behind the thick lenses he’d always worn.

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Elijah sat down at the table. “How are you doing, Mr. Astin?”

Sean shook his head in wonder. “I never would have recognized you, except for your eyes. They’re even more amazing without the prop glasses.”

Elijah smiled. “They're not a prop,” he replied, “not really. Those glasses are actually the only part of E.J. that wasn't a lie. I can’t see a foot in front of me without them. I still wear them on occasion, but I prefer to use contacts.”

“I can see why. The physical transformation is quite astonishing.”

“This is the real me,” Elijah told him, “at least for the moment.” He extended his hand. “Congratulations on the election, Senator.”

Sean took his hand and shook it. “Thank you, Elijah.” He signaled for a waiter and Elijah gave him his drink order. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admitted. “Even though you told me to call, I didn’t really believe...”

“You thought it was just a line.”

“I did. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I never actually thought you'd call, especially after you won the election.”

“Something you played a large part in making happen,” Sean reminded him.

Elijah waved that away. “I just helped you get rid of an obstacle. You did the rest on your own.”

“Nonetheless,” Sean said, “I’m very grateful. I owe you a great deal, Elijah. I know this won’t begin to repay the debt, but I hope you’ll stay and have dinner with me. The food’s exceptional here, but I imagine you already know that.”

“Are you sure you want to do that, Senator?” Elijah asked in a mock-serious tone. “Someone here might recognize me. Aren’t you afraid your constituents will accuse you of using government funds to entertain a professional escort?”

“I’ll gladly take that risk.”

"In that case," Elijah said, "I think I'll have the lobster."

Sean grinned at him. “An excellent choice."

Based only on their physical appearance, they might have been taken for one of the other dozen or so male couples in the restaurant, just another handsome young man whose company had been bought and paid for by a man several years his senior. But what set the senator and his dinner companion apart from all the other couples in the room was that it was friendship, not money, that had brought them together.


End file.
